Checked in. Got my little hip numbers. Sitting around waiting for the start. Thought there were still 2 age groups running ahead of me. Then I hear the PA say my race was underway! Bitterly bitterly disappointed. As I was walking out to my car I heard the PA call the winning time of 4:27, which disappointed me even more, 'cuz I think I could have honestly contended for it. Woulda, shoulda, coulda. Didn't.

I just feel like such a pathetic stupid loser. Unbelievable. Now I gotta figure out if I even have enough mojo left to show up for the 5000 on Sunday, or if I should just bag it. At the moment I'm vacillating between being so enraged that I want to go run that 5000 and try to blow it out and just saying screw it.

Keep it in perspective though - in the grand scheme of things, this is just an everyday screw-up - albeit one that was important to you personally - not a catastrophe. Take out your frustration on the 5,000 and try and give this story a better ending. I look forward to that race report.

Keep it in perspective though - in the grand scheme of things, this is just an everyday screw-up - albeit one that was important to you personally - not a catastrophe. Take out your frustration on the 5,000 and try and give this story a better ending. I look forward to that race report.

I'm regretting using the word 'everyday' - what I meant was that mishearing the call for your race was the kind of small error that we all make from time to time. Obviously in this case it had particularly unfortunate consequences.

Keep it in perspective though - in the grand scheme of things, this is just an everyday screw-up - albeit one that was important to you personally - not a catastrophe. Take out your frustration on the 5,000 and try and give this story a better ending. I look forward to that race report.

Nick nailed it. With all the mistakes I make, we should all be very thankful that I'm not employed at a nuclear power facility. Rip the 5k Joe.

May the road rise to meet you, may the wind be always at your back, may the sun shine warm upon your SPF30, may the rains fall soft upon your sweat-wicking hat, and until you hit the finish line may The Flying Spaghetti Monster hold you in the hollow of His Noodly Appendage.

I could not have run a 4:27 when I was 20 so quit crying and run the 5k.

Well, that was encouraging!

Aftermath for those interested. This morning the five was just a total implosion. I felt I was 16:30-fit, worst case, and I also thought might as well see what I've got. So, against wiser counsel than my own, I ran out with the leaders at 5:06-ish, and after 2000 it was downhill from there. In fact, after about that point I more or less just gave up and ran to finish the race. I've run faster 5000s on the track in workouts and on the roads in tempo runs, so it was just a total waste. Was hoping for a happy ending, but it wasn't to be. In fact, it all just feels like it was destined to be a humiliating train wreck in front of all these guys from all over the country who are good, and sorta seems to confirm that old "you don't belong here" fear. Also sorry to let the whole RA team down!

As I was licking my wounds from the 1500m debacle the last couple of days, my oldest son said something very wise to me, though. I would almost go so far as to say prophetic, even. "Dad, you know the coolest thing about God healing your knee is that you can always run another race." That's pretty good perspective. I guess Mr. Mike would say it's all hobbyjogging anyway.